Clockwork
by Red the Alien
Summary: Wrongfully convicted of a crime he did not commit, Sirius Black waits alone in Azkaban with only an old book, a photograph, a pocket watch, and his memories to sustain him.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, first round. My optional prompt choices were (word) Stubborn[ness], (phrase) Laughter is the best medicine, and (quote) "Courage without conscience is a wild beast" -Robert Green Ingersoll

**1\. Tick**

His cell was small, drafty, and barren. A stiff mattress with a single damp blanket would serve as his bed. A shelf in one corner with a box that held his few meager possessions.

This was meant to be Sirius Black's new home—if the Ministry would have their way, until the day he died.

He'd brought only a few things with him. A pocket watch that his best friend, James Potter, had inherited from his father, which had fallen into Sirius's possession after James's death. An old copy of _Hogwarts: A History _inscribed with the names of the four Marauders from their school days: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. That book had been their inspiration when they first created the Marauder's Map—a powerful enchantment by Remus Lupin, or Moony, who was always the cleverest among them, added to a security measure by James, or Prongs, who had always been known for a cheeky sense of humor—and to this day, he knew, it carried traces of all of his friends. A Chocolate Frog card—Albus Dumbledore, the first one he'd ever gotten. A crumpled picture of the five of them on James and Lily's wedding day—James, his smile still bright with boyish energy but his eyes softer, more serious, those of a man; Lily, her fiery red hair falling in a loose, lava-like cascade over the white satin of her wedding dress, her emerald-green eyes sparkling with joy as she waved her bouquet over her head; Remus, his face lined with exhaustion to the point that he appeared much older than his friends, but his smile warm and sincere; and Peter Pettigrew—better known as Wormtail—alongside them, all enthusiasm and zeal and twitching nerves. His face that day had twitched like a finger on the trigger of a gun, and Sirius now understood why.

**2\. Tock**

The moment that the news broke—that James and Lily Potter had been murdered by Lord Voldemort himself, but that Voldemort's attempts to kill their son, Harry, had somehow backfired, killing Voldemort instead—was a moment of joy for the wizarding world. But for Sirius Black, it had been a moment of outrage.

Someone had betrayed James and Lily. Only four people had been made secret-keepers, able to give away their location and allow someone else to find them. Out of these four, Sirius knew he had never told a soul where James and Lily hid, and he knew that Albus Dumbledore had never told anyone, either, much less the Dark Lord—Dumbledore was, after all, the only one Voldemort had ever truly feared. Out of Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew—the two remaining secret-keepers—it was easy for Sirius to discern who the traitor was.

Sirius had spent that entire night pacing his living room, his mind chaotic. Occasionally, there had been knocks at his door. He'd answered them, spoken briefly with old friends, made promises to be in touch soon—but these were background noise to him. His mind was never on these friends who stood at his doorstep, but at the one friend who he knew wouldn't show up, the one friend who had to pay for betraying James and Lily.

Pettigrew would pay, one way or another.

**3\. Tick**

It wasn't like the Ministry expected his sentence to be long. He had, of course, been sentenced to life—but people died quickly in Azkaban. It was a place where people quickly lost the will to live; a place devoid of hope, of joy, of warmth; indeed, it was true what they always said, "Laughter is the best medicine"…look how quickly those in Azkaban perished without it.

Sirius lifted the photograph to the narrow shaft of grey light that perspired through his barred window. Outside, the sky was stormy—Azkaban was a place where there was never sun, where there was only gray and darkness, where things never got better, they only got worse. Not even the most stubborn of souls could cling to their sanity for long here. The guards—Dementors, creatures that fed on joy and left only misery in their wake—saw to that. The chill Sirius felt each time one swept past his window, the shudder of their presence, the memories—his mother, screaming jumbled curses and insults after him as he left Grimmauld Place for the last time; Kreacher shuffling around his room, muttering under his breath about how Regulus would always be the pride of the noble Black family, how Sirius would be forgotten among mudbloods and traitors; the realization that James and Lily were dead, and that a friend of their own had betrayed them…

It was enough to make anyone else lose their minds.

This just made Sirius feel lucky, though. While everyone else would fall quickly to insanity, he had a reason to stay alive.

He was innocent. Pettigrew was guilty. And until he had proven that to the world, not even Azkaban could drain him of his purpose.

**4\. Tock**

"Where is Wormtail?"

The question came out with a level of forcefulness that even surprised Sirius—he'd meant for it to come off calm and casual, but it came off filled with anger.

Remus frowned and set down his book, polishing his glasses on his sleeve. He set them down on the desk and glanced up at Sirius, who stood in the doorway of the study. "Padfoot, listen. I know why you're asking." he sighed, "I know you want to avenge Prongs. You and I both know that Wormtail betrayed us…"

"Yes." Sirius's resolve to conceal his true purpose from Remus melted away instantly. "He must pay for this!"

"I know. But think before you act! What will it change if you get revenge?" Remus lowered his voice. "Killing Wormtail won't bring Prongs back. It'll only make you a criminal. And he'll die without ever paying for what he did. Whatever your plan is, make it better than 'kill Wormtail for revenge.'"

Sirius roared with frustration. "What am I supposed to do, eh? He's out there, and I can't let that remain—even if you-know-who is dead, if he is, it doesn't change the fact that the one truly responsible for Prongs and Lily dying is still out there! I can't let him get away with that!"

Remus shook his head. "I know. But come up with a better plan than kill him for revenge. That'll solve nothing, and Prongs wouldn't want you to kill Wormtail. You remember what he said, about old Mr. Crouch? The ends do not justify the means—if you kill Wormtail, you're a murderer, and there's no way around that." He paused. "But look. As long as we're talking about Prongs…the Aurors who went through the house recovered something of his, they said that they figured you may want it. Told me to give it to you." He rose from his seat and drew something from the pocket of his robes, offering it to Sirius—a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. Sirius took it and set it on the desk, carefully opening the paper so as not to risk damaging the contents. There was a glisten from within the folds.

A small, ornate golden pocket watch.

On the front surface, the Gryffindor lion was carved, stark gold against the red enamel with a tiny ruby for its eye. A delicate latch kept it closed. Sirius flipped the latch, and the watch opened easily in his hand—the face was ivory with tiny golden hands. Inscribed on the inside of the cover were seven words.

_Courage without conscience is a wild beast._

"The watch belonged to James Potter I." Remus explained. "When he died, he passed it on to his son. I think Prongs intended to pass it on to Harry someday, but…I think for now, it should stay in your possession…you're the boy's godfather after all, you should be the one to give it to him, when the time is right." Pause. "Oh, and that quote on the inside…was a line from a distinguished Muggle from the United States, man by the name of Robert Green Ingersoll…James I seemed to have a certain fondness for Muggle Studies that Prongs didn't really share. But Prongs did like that quote, nonetheless. I think he'd want you to remember it, now more than ever."

Sirius stared at the watch for a moment longer before closing it again. He lifted it and attached the golden fob chain to his hip, placing the watch in his pocket. "He would, wouldn't he?" He then turned and headed for the door. "I'd best be going, Moony. Good to see you again. I'll leave the funeral arrangements to you."

"Padfoot." Remus's brow was furrowed with obvious concern. "Where are you going?"

Sirius paused at the door, but didn't turn to look at Remus. "Where do you think I'm going?" And with that, he was gone.

**5\. Tick**

Sirius lifted the watch in his hands. He turned it over and over in his hands. Its ticking calmed him in a way. No matter the sounds outside, the thoughts in his head, the watch was steady—it was the heartbeat that would keep his sanity alive, no matter how Azkaban may try it.

"Prongs…" he sighed, "I won't be tricked again."

In the years that followed, he would run over the events that had landed him in Azkaban again and again. Sometimes he did feel close to losing his mind. But he looked at the watch, and it reminded him—this watch had been left to him with the intention that one day, he'd pass it on to Harry, James's son, his godson. There were two people waiting for him on the outside. One, a nemesis—a reason for him to survive Azkaban, unfinished business that must be closed; Peter Pettigrew would be his reason not to lose his life, lest he never achieved justice, justice for James and Lily, for Pettigrew's betrayal. The other, a godson—one who would grow up without knowing a parent's love, the son that James and Lily never got to raise, never had the chance to know; Harry Potter would be his reason to not lose himself within Azkaban, to still be Padfoot when he left, the man to whom James Potter had entrusted his son's future.

He looked again at the photograph. _I won't let you down._

**6\. Tock**

The plan was simple. Find Pettigrew, and through some mix of forceful coercion, appeals to conscience, and intimidation, get Pettigrew to confess to betraying Lily and James. Have him arrested on charges of assisting the Dark Lord in committing murder.

This would be his closure, his justice. It was a plan that Remus would find satisfactory, that would leave him without criminal guilt, that James would approve of. The plan was simple.

For this reason alone, Sirius later realized, it was doomed from the very start to fail.

But by the time he had realized that, it was too late to change the outcome.

Pettigrew had escaped, and Sirius was left to face three charges.

Two of conspiring with the Dark Lord—the very crimes he'd intended to reveal Pettigrew's guilt in, had instead been shifted onto him.

And one of murder—a killing which he'd considered, but decided against; a death that hadn't even happened; for Pettigrew was alive.

In retrospect, Sirius knew that he should've seen it coming—that Pettigrew would expect him and have an escape plan ready. But this hindsight didn't make the outcomes any less infuriating.

**7\. Tick**

Lightning flashed outside of Sirius's window. The flash was reflected on the surface of the watch.

It had three hands. They moved at different speeds, but in the end, they all ran the same course. They all came back around in the end.

_This isn't over, Wormtail. _Sirius mused. _You escaped this time. Don't count on it happening again._

There would be no escape for Wormtail in the end. He'd sold out his own friends—signed them over to death. The fate that followed traitors wasn't a fate that one could walk away from. Wormtail could try, of course. But it would come around in the end. Maybe it would be Sirius, or Remus. Maybe it would be a fellow follower of the Dark Lord. Maybe it would be something else entirely—but whatever it was that came for Wormtail, it could not be stopped. Justice, in Sirius's opinion, wasn't the law, or those who enforced it. It was a force of nature, and Wormtail would learn that someday. Sirius just had to help that lesson along.

**8\. Tock**

Remus Lupin awakened that night with a start—Sirius was in the room and had flipped on a light. At the sight of Sirius, panicked, wild, Remus sat bolt upright.

"Padfoot! Good god, man, what are you doing here? What were you thinking, killing Wormtail like that? I told you—"

Sirius shook his head. "We've been tricked." he said grimly. "Wormtail's alive. He cut off a finger and went into his Animagus form...they think he's dead, but he's not, he got away before I could get him to confess!"

Remus frowned. "What?"

"I never intended to kill him, and I didn't." Sirius explained angrily, "I wanted to talk to him, get him to confess to betraying Prongs...but he saw me coming. Framed it up to look like I killed him, then escaped, that bastard!"

Remus's heart sank. "Damn..." He paused. "What are you going to do?"

"Not much I can do...they're looking for me, as you said. I won't get you wound up in this. I'm leaving right away. They'll catch me, nothing I can do about it." Sirius pulled something out of his pocket. "I just wanted to say goodbye, since I won't be seeing you for a while."

"You can't possibly mean you're just going to accept that? Going to Azkaban for a crime you never committed?"

"I don't have a choice for now." Sirius sighed. "But this isn't it. I will find a way to track Wormtail down again. I owe it to Prongs...I can't let Wormtail go."

Remus nodded sadly. "And Harry?"

Sirius stared out the window. "I owe it to him...to bring Wormtail to justice...and to make sure he knows the truth about us." He opened his hand to reveal what he'd been holding—the pocket watch. "It's all in good time. I'll find a way."

Remus shook his head. "And no one's ever escaped from Azkaban. What makes you so confident you can?"

"Well..." The corners of Sirius's mouth flicked into a smile. "Nobody ever survived being attacked by You-Know-Who, either. But Harry Potter did, and he's just a baby. I think it's time we reconsidered what we call 'impossible'—don't you?" There was a loud crack, and Sirius was gone—Apparated away. Remus sighed and looked out the window.

_I think it's time we reconsidered what we call "impossible"—don't you?_

Remus smiled. For all the books he'd read, he'd never find a way to escape Azkaban. But Sirius? Somehow, Remus had a feeling he could—merely because Sirius, like James, had a way of proving people wrong, whenever the consensus was that something couldn't be done.

It was all in good time.


End file.
